In Which Draco Malfoy Ages Terribly
by disturbinglyprofound
Summary: What if Draco lost his good looks as he approached middle age? More of a Draco-rant in third person than anything.


**Note:** Due to the fact that there is a vast number of Draco-Malfoy-lovers out there (including myself), I would like to point out in advance that this is not, in any way, meant to insult the beauty that is Draco Malfoy. This is meant to bring up an alternative scenario as to the epilogue of Harry Potter – the possibility that Draco does not age as gracefully as we would like. =D Hope you enjoy, either way.

As always, I own none of the Harry Potter characters, places, etc. I only own the plot (unless someone has published something similar already, and in that case, *shakes fist* darn you, darn you poster!)

**In Which Draco Malfoy Ages Terribly**

If one were to line up every Hogwarts student in Harry Potter's year side by side, said one would obviously notice who took all the good looks and ran with them.

Draco Malfoy, of course. He was tall and lean, platinum blonde hair sitting contentedly on top of that pointed head, with grey eyes and Merlin, who could resist that smirk? It wasn't entirely implausible that Harry Potter could've fallen in love with him. Nor was it impossible that Hermione Granger would have, either. However, in this particular story, we will follow the storyline, in which Draco reforms after the War, which, in fact, ends, and he then goes on to marry Astoria Greengrass (and have an equally delicious son, Scorpius.)

After the war ended, Draco did not socialize as often as he used to. His wife, however lovely and blonde she was, was quite the social butterfly, and so this put a bit of a rift between the two of them. _However, _it was not large enough to completely wedge them apart, thus allowing Hermione Granger or Harry Potter to fill the void, mind you. Anyway, because Draco did not like attending parties, spending time with old friends (except, possibly, Blaise Zabini, Gregory Goyle, and Theodore Nott), and the like, not many took notice of his face, nor did they realize that it was beginning to change...

... for the worse.

No one could deny his attractiveness as a teenager and a young adult. However, as he began to approach his thirtieth birthday, when his son was born and when several baby showers and such were thrown and ultimately meant _socializing, _Draco began to become aware of the fact that something very, very awful was happening to him. The bags he had accumulated during the horror that was the Second Wizarding War had not diminished, and, because of his newborn son, had in fact gotten much worse. His hair was thinning, the brilliant platinum blonde beginning to dull to something more akin to a bleached black cat. While he still worked out – in many different ways, wink, wink – it was becoming harder to maintain the compact, hard abdomen he was rather well-known for in his teenage years.

The mere idea that Draco was aging, and not in a graceful way like, surprisingly, his wife, brought about something rather Muggle: a midlife crisis.

Draco's father never had this problem, simply because he didn't age this way. As a result, Lucius blamed Draco's horrible appearance on his mother's side of the family.

"Look at Bellatrix," he argued. "That traitor Sirius. All of them started out rather attractively, if I do say so. And then what happened?"

_They got ugly. _Draco wanted to point out that it was because they spent a good portion of their adult lives in Azkaban that they'd become so... _aged_, but then again, his father had been in there as well, and he was still as handsome as ever. So was Draco's mother. It was irritating when the good genes skipped a generation.

But, Draco supposed, this was probably how most felt _their entire lives. _He'd had a good childhood and young adulthood, at least, revelling in his good looks and charming personality. But as the attractiveness withered, so had the charisma. He spoke sharply to his wife, and was very short-tempered with his child. It only got worse when 2017 rolled around, and Draco had to face the people he'd once teased, at least partly, because of their looks.

After the requisite curt nod, sneer and such, he'd heard Weasley say something along the lines of, "Merlin's big toe! What the bloody hell happened to Malfoy?"

Of course Granger couldn't shut up, even then. "I expect he's just aged, like the rest of us have," she replied, but Draco could see she was suppressing a grin.

"At least we've managed to age gracefully," Weaslette chortled. "Malfoy looks like a bitter old codger."

"Be nice, Ginny, for the children," said Potter. Despite being the most civilized out of the quartet, Draco knew, deep down, Potter was happy that Draco was no longer the attractive man that he had been.

Damn Granger, and her adult beauty, straight teeth, tamed hair, prominent assets due to motherhood and the like. Damn Weasley, his bright red hair suiting him now, his body not gangly but instead lean and muscular. And damn Potter most of all, who could make ugly, round glasses attractive and could even produce beautiful children with his beautiful wife. Damn the whole trio.

And where were the Slytherins? Pansy, who had been only moderately good-looking at Hogwarts, had lost what little beauty remained. Gregory had never been attractive. Theodore, who had been alright looking, was now downright rat-like in appearance. Draco himself had lost the devastating beauty he had been known for. Only Blaise seemed to retain his Italian good looks, and that was probably why Draco had grown closer to Theo and Greg, casting aside his more attractive friend. It really _was _irritating to have friends who were more attractive than you. It made Draco wonder why he had so many back at Hogwarts. Perhaps they were hoping his looks would somehow rub off on them.

He smirked. As if.

For now, he was content to spend most of his time at home, wallowing away his middle-aged days and hoping he'd somehow be able to get out of this mid-life crisis _rut. _Astoria was growing impatient with him, probably even more so because his ugliness made the whole situation more irritating. Scorpius was growing into a handsome young man, and Draco could only hope that he, like his grandfather, would age gracefully, and not become the recluse Draco had. Whoever said beauty was only skin deep was obviously ugly. At least now, Draco could understand what it meant.

That didn't mean he could be any less bitter about it.

* * *

A/N: Hope it wasn't too short. =D Review?


End file.
